Colorblind
by rocket7roe
Summary: Lucas used to be a famous writer, a great husband and a role model to his little sister Lily, but then the war came. Could the arrival of a blonde helpless jew in his basement make it worse? WW2. Leyton. Love doesn't pick a right time to happen.
1. Prologue

**N/A:** So, this is a start, huh? I'm a first timer over here, so bare with me. After weeks reading The Book Thief, I just couldn't hold myself and I reached a point where the story was almost entirely written on my mind and I just needed to put it on paper. So here it is, getting shapes and words as we speak. The story isn't exactly ready on my mind, but I like to believe it'll solve itself along the way. Besides that, I'd really like to send a huge hug and uncountable war tanks baked cookies to lola's hurricane (Nix), my awesome friend and greatest beta reader in the whole wide blue world.

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**- ****Colorblind -**

**Prologue**

_A story lost among many others_

It was a sunny afternoon when I started writing.

Yeah, I know what you just thought, "all stories start the same", but I like to start something from the beginning and, right now, the beginning is the weather. I like to imagine you'll picture that sunny afternoon as you go on the reading, and I even dare to believe you'll try to guess the smells in the air that afternoon; maybe a cup of coffee somewhere, or the smell of the flowers in my backyard, perhaps a cake just baked in the kitchen. I really hope you're like that, reader, because that way I feel like I'm telling a story to someone who deserves to know the biggest love story in the world. From my point of view, at least.

But hold on a second, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

I'm not into names at all, but if you're one of those who like to know everything before start a book – or a simple story divided in chapters like this one – you can call me Lily. Still, I agree with Juliet about a name being no part of any man or woman, so I don't mind if you don't tell me yours. I'll call you reader, and I'm sure we'll get along just fine that way.

As I already told you, this is a story about love, but maybe that's just because I'm a hopeless romantic, I always have been. If you're different, you may think this is a story about a war, or a nation, or how people can overcome obstacles in times of difficulty. In the end, reader, the truth is this is a story about all of that, and nothing at the same time. This is a story about people and nations and governments and a few maniacs who came along the way. Of course, the way I'll tell it'll look like a love story, hopefully, but once again that's just me, you're free to imagine this story the way you like it, I really don't mind. It used to be my personal fairytale, but since now I'm sharing it with you, nothing fairer than let you imagine the way you like. We're done in that specific subject.

It was a sunny afternoon when I started writing.

There weren't any clouds in the sky that day and I have to confess I stayed out there for a while, just staring at the sky, and thinking about all the stories I heard about how people died and went to heaven, some became clouds, some became stars. At that time, I couldn't see any of them and for a split terrifying second I thought maybe they were lost, and that's how I ended up here, in front of my white computer, sharing this story with you. All the scenes are vivid in my head, but I'm old now and I feel like I own them this. I own them that people remember who they were and how they changed the future of many people, as much as bullets and bombs did back then. I own them that everyone remember their names and think about them in difficult times, when they lose their faith or don't believe in love anymore.

I own them that people never forget the names Lucas Scott and Peyton Sawyer, and a few more that came along the way.

And that's how our story begins.


	2. Of Hearts and People

**N/A: **Wow. I never thought I'd get so many reviews so fast and I love you all for that. I spent one of the best weeks of my year living by the memories of those words. I'm sorry for the delay, too, that's mostly Nix's fault; she's still my great, beautiful, awesome, amazing, unbelievable, incredible and perfect beta reader (I promised her I'd write long notes for her), but she's busy with college stuff so there's little time to read fics. I also want to apologize for the delay in getting into the story for once, I promise we'll have it by the next chapter. Now, the reviews:

**lola's hurricane: **Oh, you rock and you know that. I wanna hug and bite your e-mail, that was really touching, Nix XD you can slap me if I get off track with this piece of writing.

**HJS-NS-23****:** You were my first review, aw! I'll never forget you lol and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Tweetiebird86****:** I'm honored! And hopefully I won't let you down )

**GirlinTheCafe:** You made my week! I screamed for hours (ok, maybe minutes… seconds) when I read your review, and I wrote two pages thinking about those words. I'll love you forever; I hope you don't mind XD

**Looney4MyTunes3:** Thank you! There you go, more information, I hope you also like this chapter.

**Lostand1TreeHillfan: **There you go, udded (is that a word? lol) I hope you enjoy the reading!

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**CHAPTER I**

**Of Hearts and People**

Do you know tragedies? I don't mean like the plays, or movies, or such stuff, but things like a car crash or the Second World War or the death of your dog. It's something that happens all the time to everyone, even to that skinny guy who lives around the corner, but you never think it could happen to you. Of course, when you're seven years old as I was back then, you _really _don't think about tragedies and the worst thing that could happen in your tiny little happy world is one of your dolls have its head chopped off by the nasty kid next door.

But mind you that eventually you discover the world is not quite the kingdom you imagined it was and that horses aren't unicorns with no horn. You just never expected it to be in a cold afternoon when you're seven and know nothing about the world but the street that leads you to the school.

I can still remember that afternoon. The sun shone just enough for people not to think it was night and the air was so cold, I believed if someone cried, the tears would become ice while still rolling. I dreamt of castles shaped in ice rocks and princesses wearing beautiful blue dresses, dancing with princes in bright suits surrounded by white horses – no, not horses, unicorns with no horn – while their kingdoms grew bigger and bigger until reach the horizon and become the sun in the sky. Now, looking back, I realize how amazing it was, to fit all of that in the tiny space that was our front yard, but I just could; and like the magicians I loved to watch, I could fit a kingdom in a yard and get bunnies out of silks with nothing but a blink of an eye and maybe a clap.

There was no space for fantasies that afternoon, however, when a face popped up in the gate and smiled nervously at me, as if I was some sort of threat. I was, actually, I just didn't know that, in my innocent fairytale world.

**"Hi. Is this the home of Lucas Scott? The writer?"**

Ok, now is the part where I get to interrupt your reading again. I'm sorry, and I'm afraid to say that will happen often throughout our time together. Anyway, before we go any further, I think you'd like to meet my big brother. People called him _Herr_ Lucas Scott, but for me he'd always be Luke. Even now, after all those years, I still remember him as Luke, giving me the teddy bear I had asked for my birthday, and never as _Herr _Lucas, the Nazi counsel member gone astray and shooting people in the streets with his Luger stolen from a Nazi soldier. To tell the truth, years after that story, I still thought that my big brother and the man shooting were different people and I guess that, in a selfish way, helped me get through the years without him.

But, of course, I suppose you don't want to know the end of the story in the first chapter.

Luke was tall, _very tall_ (at least compared to me), and his blond hair shone in the daylight as if he was an angel. He was strong, and his arms were so long, that I used to think he could carry the world in his hands – as he usually did, metaphorically speaking – and his light blue eyes always had a kind word in their corners, just waiting to be said.

As a matter of fact, you shouldn't blindly believe in all I say. That's a seven years old child's description of her older brother; you may filter the biggest part of the information.

Now, if you'd like a new view on Luke's history, from someone older, here it goes.

He was born from Karen Roe and Daniel Scott in Stuttgart, Germany, and he never really got along well with his father. The story isn't about him, so I'll just skip this part, all you need to know is that we were only siblings by mother, since I was born from her second marriage with a sweet English man named Andy. Luke had another half-brother (oh, the Scott family), named Nathan, who happened to live just around the corner and be married to Luke's best friend, Haley. For me, they'd always be auntie Hales and Uncle Nate and their faces are marked in my memories always smiling and holding a piece of cake for me. A small candy, when the tougher years came. And then, near the end, only soft words, because they were all that was left.

They also had a son named Jamie who I hated from the deepest gap of my heart. Well, at least I supposed that was hate, in my resolute seven years old mind, but now I dare to think Jamie and his blond hair and older attitude was what people call first love, the one you feel even before the word love gets a real meaning in your dictionary.

But once again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Please, reader, if I do this constantly, you may call my attention. It just happens and when I realize I've skipped several parts of the story. You may forgive me, it happens when you open the drawer where you hid your past and then your eyes just keep going from one memory to another without you ever noticing it, like when you're looking at old pictures of you.

That afternoon, when the somewhat familiar face popped up in the front gate, I couldn't have known the path the events would lead me to walk on. I don't believe anyone knew, actually, not even Luke and all his wisdom, nor Lindsey, Luke's wife, and all her righteous. Not even Rudy, our dog, missed to bark at her, only to assure the rest of the world that the woman in front of me was nothing but another regular visit.

She wasn't, as you probably know by now.

If you excuse me, I think I'll turn this chapter into a big introduction field. It seems important to me that you have at least an exact idea of who they were and how they affected each other's life, but I promise you we'll get around the real story by the second chapter. Is that ok with you? Please?

Thanks. You're very kind, reader.

Lindsey Strauss was the mayor's niece, therefore she had a rich, incredible life ahead of her, but then she met Lucas. Her family was against it the entire time, but they never did a thing against their marriage, in an admirable act of respect, that until 1939. I like to call it The Year That Changed It All, you'll find out why soon, just hold on a second.

As I found out later on that same day, the familiar face in the gate had a name. Brooke Davis. I knew her indeed, from the pictures Luke hid in the basement because of Lindsey. I used to go down there to play, and I dreamt I was a princess trapped in a castle by an evil witch, waiting for the day my prince charming would come, in his white horse, to rescue me. In one of those dreams, I found a box, and I spent hours and hours just looking at old photographs and letters I barely could read. That was how I met Brooke Davis before the day she appeared at our doorstep, and that's probably why I'd always like her better than I liked Lindsey.

It's not like Lindsey was mean or anything, she was actually really kind, but there was something in her cold blue eyes and blonde hair that always got me suspicious, as if anytime in the following years she could call the police and say there was a Jew in our basement. In the end, I'd find out Lindsey Strauss was as much afraid of everything as all of us.

Brooke Davis was something entirely different. She had dated Luke a long time ago, before he became a writer, before the screams of _Heil Hitler_ filled the streets of Stuttgart and before any of us, the younger generation, knew exactly what was the dimension of the damage a short weird man against a world could cause. She was as German as Luke or Lindsey, but she was somehow different, as if none of that mattered most than live her life fully. After Hitler's ascending, she became tougher, like a rock where everybody could support on, but that would never really feel the water or even the wind beating against it. No one ever heard of her after she broke up with Lucas – or Lucas broke up with her, the history was never completely clear – until the afternoon she showed up and said hi to me, asking for my big brother.

The other part of the Scott family is probably what I'll like the most to remember. Nathan Scott used to be a lawyer in the golden days, before Hitler and everything, but his greatest mistake was made the day he refused one of the many advices his father Dan gave to him.

It was a raining winter morning, two years ago, when the letter arrived. In all proper formal terms they demanded him to join the NSDAP before he lost all his cases and never got a job again. Nathan ignored the paper, as well as he ignored his father later that day telling him that maybe he didn't have a choice. They – the _Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, _or National Socialist German Workers' Party – eventually destroyed his life as he knew it, but he still had Haley and Jamie to support his tired shoulders on, and that was basically how he never lost his faith completely, even after losing almost everything.

Haley-James… Oh, Haley was a totally different history. Her father had fought in the First World War and she was raised, along with six brothers, hearing all the terrible stories and knowing that the worst thing the humans could do was that something called war. Now she was a tutor in a small school kept by the local church and also helped in a charity center in the weekends. I'd always remember Haley as an angel who clearly didn't belong to that place, even less to the Nazi Germany. Truth was, none of us belonged there, and we were as lost as all of the Jews that marched in front of our windows years later.

I think even the officers in the army felt lost like that.

Moving to Jamie… Sweet little Jamie, who liked to call out bad names for me when we were alone, and held my hand when I was crying. The same hand who helped me get up when I fell playing football, and also pushed me to the ground only to score a goal in the same match. He was always trying to find the way to my heart, as only a child could do, and I realize now my heart was always his, even though I never told him that. I never would. He was my best friend and, most of all; he kept my secrets safe throughout those years I'd never understand. He was also my mate in the Hitler Youth and there wasn't better company to say bad things about our superiors. Jamie Scott was me, wearing pants and with a much bigger vocabulary of bad words, I guess that's why we got along so well so fast.

We all lived in Oase Street, which now I think it's a bit ironic. Considering everything that small piece of city went through, Oase – or haven, in English – was the last name I'd think of. But still, in the old days when everything was always fine, that was certainly the safest place in the world. There were many other people living there, some of were also our friends, and other that didn't live there, but were always at our house, sometimes playing with me, sometimes talking low with Luke on the kitchen table, their eyes heavy. They'll all appear in the right time, if necessary.

Now, I want you to take a breath, and sit down.

I once read that the words are powerful and, if used in the right way, can change destinies and worlds. I once lived in a country that lived by that. Now, I'll try to use the words as right as they did.

Relax, reader, I'll tell you a story. Even better, I'll leave you alone with it and let the history tell itself to you. I'll appear eventually, or I'll miss you too much now that we're practically friends, but now it's all up to them and the memories I still have, so colorful and vivid that look like scenes of a movie.

Good reading.


	3. High Hopes, Low Expectations

**N/A:** I think there aren't enough words in the English language to express how sorry I am for taking all this time to upload. The thing is my computer had gone to fix and the guy erased all my HD, therefore sending Colorblind to the heaven of the lost fics. I cried a lot, screamed, punched a few pillows, until I sent my computer to another guy and, after about 15 days, he came back, telling me he had brought my beloved fic back to me. I took a few more days to finish the chapter I was working on, and then here it is; the absurdly delayed still written second chapter. I apologize once more and I hope my readers don't give up on this story only because of that. I promise Colorblind won't die anytime soon. I have a special thanks for Nix, my beta reader who supported me all along the way (consider it your Christmas gift), and Lily, who appeared out of nowhere and soon became as important to this fic as the writer herself. I couldn't get in touch with her before publishing this chapter, so I'm sorry for any German words spelled wrong. Now, without further ado, the reviews and then, the story.

**Raven09: **Thank you, so much. The "slightly poetic" comment made my heart beat faster. I really appreciate the fact that you're enjoying it so far. Have fun with this chapter.

**Looney4MyTunes3:** I don't want to decrease the importance of any review or reader, but this chapter was written especially for you, whose words touched deeply in my heart and made most of the words come easier. I'm trying my best not to disappoint you in such a dangerous field as the WWII is, and I really hope you enjoy the path the story is taking.

**luke-n-peyton:** As our storyteller would say, "words are powerful and I hope I use them right". I really hope you like the interaction between Lucas and Peyton, which will definitely start within two chapters, top.

**LillyO.:** Oh, Lily! My sweet German beta. I hope I don't disappoint you too much with my rubbish German, as well I hope you like the story, after all I'm exploring your country's past. I hope I give it the glory it deserves. Good reading, and thank you for the help with all the German words.

**GirlinTheCafe:** I feel like we're old friends, already. I'm just a history geek, so don't mind my WWII obsession and the fact I do live in Brazil. I'm just odd that way lol I really hope I do justice with this story, knowing how real it is for those who lived through that time period. Thank you for being part of this story by reading it since the very beginning.

**Lvrfashion:** Thank you! Again I apologize for the delay, and as well hope to fulfill your expectations about this story. If I make any historical error, by any means, please, don't hesitate to nudge me. I feel like I own all respect to those who have relatives who lived through all of that. Good reading and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

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**CHAPTER II**

**High**** Hopes, Low Expectations**

**24th ****December, 1938**

**Some abandoned basement underneath a warehouse in Munich**

**Breath:**

**1. **The air inhaled and exhaled in respiration.

**2. **The act or process of breathing; respiration.

**3. **The capacity to breathe, especially in a natural and unlabored manner.

It burnt.

Every single cell of her exhausted body clung desperately for that bit of air, for that small piece of humanity, the one thing that could assure her that she was still a human being, despite being locked up in a small square shaped basement for five weeks, despite being starving for four days, despite having no water to drink other than the salty one dropping from the ceiling, despite being a Jew.

Who was she trying to fool? She wasn't a human being for quite a while now.

Peyton Sawyer had everything she ever wanted once, and those who listened that now, while looking at that defeated shadow curled up in a dark corner, would certainly laugh. She was a pure German as far as she was concerned; until Hitler came and said that her father, her Jew father, was the one sin she'd forever have to pay for. She had left the life she knew behind, her father was now probably dying in some hidden work camp and the only person who still talked to her was Brooke Davis, her best friend since ever. Brooke came from a traditional family and soon joined the League of German Girls, the female branch of the Nazi movement known as Hitler Youth, but she never cut relations with Peyton by any means, just otherwise, she was the one who came up with that hideout and now she was the one who brought food and water from time to time, always she managed to get some out of her own house.

_**Small note from a hidden writer**_

_Here I am again. Lily. Do you still remember me, reader, don't you? Anyway, just so you know how I know so much about this period of the history, I heard that from Peyton herself. Under the lights of candles, months later, in my basement. Sometimes Luke made us company, but it's still too soon to talk about that._

She was still curled up and hidden by the shadows when footsteps broke the silence of the place.

One. Two. Three steps.

One. Two. Three heartbeats.

She was too used to hide, too used to run away and be ashamed of what she should be proud of. And after all that time alone, she was too used to let her imagination run free. They had found her; they'd now send her to be with her father, or more likely to be alone, along with those "like her", those who didn't deserve to live; those who were condemned without even knowing why. She could hear their footsteps now, the heavy gray boots echoing inside the basement, the pale uniforms not moving an inch, only coming closer and closer. She could hear their breaths and the screams of _"Finde Sie!"_ drumming inside her ears.

They were just a few steps away.

It was just any moment.

Now.

Brooke's worried face appeared in the small shade of light shining through the dirty piece of glass which once was a window and Peyton's muscles relaxed only enough for her to fake a tired smile. It was always awkward like that when Brooke visited her. And her footsteps always belonged to angry Nazi soldiers.

"**I brought you food."** the brunette whispered so low that it felt like the walls could give them away to the Gestapo.** "And fresh water. It was a good day. Christmas, you know."**

Peyton nodded gently, but her eyes couldn't help but follow the movements of Brooke's hands moving slightly and holding a basket covered with a white cloth dish. She could even feel the smell of the stale bread coming out of that basket, the taste lingering on her mouth, finally filling her empty stomach, vanishing with the hunger and putting a color on her world, which was starting to become too black and white by now. Brooke kneeled in front of her friend and gave her the basket, a benevolent smile on her face. She couldn't know how it felt like, but she could imagine and seeing someone she loved so much like Peyton suffer like that always touched her. Those moments were half of the reason she wondered every night what she was doing dressed up in that uniform, raising her hand high in a 45º degrees angle and proudly yelling Heil Hitler everyday.

The answer always came fast. It wasn't like she had a choice.

Crossing her legs and sitting on top of them, Brooke watched Peyton eating in silence for about five minutes, and then gave her the small bottle of water. The fresh liquid ran down the blonde's throat weirdly, after all that time drinking ten drops a day. When she finally finished, they both exchanged a smile and Brooke took a deep breathe, her shoulders going tense with the weight of the words she was about to say.

"**I found a way out." **She started, but her voice died in the silence of the place, in the somehow quiet peace of Peyton's eyes. They exchanged another look and Peyton tried to read in her friend's eyes what was the catchy, why was she so worried, but there weren't answers in there, only more questions. **"I have a friend. He's important, and he agreed in hiding you at his house. In Stuttgart."**

There it was, the catch.

Munich wasn't exactly close to Stuttgart. Nor was the road between them safe. Peyton knew there would be loads of patrols in between, soldiers checking who went out and who came in, asking questions she didn't have the answers for. Still, somehow she didn't care. She wasn't alive anymore; therefore there wasn't in her anything for them to kill. She was a shell, and shells weren't afraid of men in uniforms.

"**Who's he?"** Peyton asked, slowly, too unused to the sound of her own voice.

"**His name is Lucas Scott, he's a writer and he's married to the mayor's daughter."**

Peyton's eyebrows rose as she stared at her best friend in disbelief. Hide her in the mayor's daughter's house? In Stuttgart? For a moment she dared to believe Brooke had given up on being good in the middle of such evil and was now trying to give her away to the first patrol on the road, but then something inside her eyes snapped. She was still good, so good that she was starting to become desperate to see her friend in a better situation, and any situation was better than the one she was living in.

"**How you've met him?"**

"**We dated for a while." **both shared an easy laugh and Brooke went on. **"I went to Stuttgart a few weeks ago and talked to him. After a while filled with senseless talk, I came with the idea and he seemed pleased, though nervous, with the idea of helping someone."**

"**Are you sure he's trustable?"**

"**If you trust me, you can trust him."**

And there, for a split second as short as a heartbeat, Peyton started to see hope in the eyes of Brooke and in the name of Lucas Scott, a stranger she didn't even know, but already was thankful to the heart.

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**25****th December, 1938**

**Lucas's living room, Stuttgart**

The light shining through the curtains hurt Lucas's eyes, but still he was happy when he woke up. In his never ending fight to keep Lily sleeping last night so she couldn't see Santa Claus, he had ended up sleeping in the couch, tired but proud of himself. They'd have one more year with the fantasy of the good old man in red clothes and with white beard.

Stretching his arms above his head, he stood up in the middle of the sheets, the sleep still lingering in his eyes, when Lily entered the room running madly, being followed by Jamie, who had slept with them so they could wait for Santa together. They were still searching for their presents under the Christmas tree when Lindsay entered, holding her every-day cup of tea and her familiar smile.

"**Good morning****, ****Sonnenschein**.**"** Her voice was barely heard through the children's excited noises, and she approached Lucas to give him a good morning kiss. **"Looks like Santa stopped by last night."**

"**Apparently."** He replied, his voice groggy, but beyond that, holding a tad of worry in it, a nervousness that Lindsay could not find a reasonable explanation for. Trying to push away the thoughts, she sat by his side, as the children gathered around in the floor to stare in amusement at their new toys, magically being just what they had asked for.

Lucas lived an average happy life those days and compared to the stories he had heard from all across the country, he couldn't really complain, that was why he had decided to help as many people as he could, especially those who didn't have the same luck as him. Getting in touch with old friends who could be in trouble or know someone who was, gather money and food, sometimes even guns, everything that was within his touch, he did, so everyone could have a glimpse of hope to get through the tough times that were about to come, because he knew, then and there, that the apparent perfection of that all was just an illusion that would soon fade away like smoke got in a flush of air.

Lindsay didn't know much about that, of course, not because Lucas didn't trust her, but because he cared too much. The less she knew, the safer she was, and things worked much better that way. That morning, especially, his worry had a name, but not a face yet. He knew someone called Peyton Sawyer was going to hide in his house for an unknown period of time, and he knew he was risking his family that time, which was pushing the limits a little too much. Yet, Brooke had given her word that she'd do everything possible to keep the attention away from them, and in the end Peyton wasn't only a name, she was a life, another life he was up to save at any costs.

Nonetheless, he still needed to talk to someone, and there wasn't better person for that than Haley. She'd understand him; mind you she wouldn't necessarily agree, but she'd understand, and for Lucas that was enough for now. He just needed to say in out loud what was giving him headaches, and then listen her well chosen words, then calm would go back to his heart and everything would be ok.

Everything would always be ok.

It was after lunch time, when Jamie had to go back to his home; that Lucas found the perfect time to talk to Haley in private without having to lie to Lindsay. It was very frequently that Jamie slept at Lucas's place and the writer found each time better and better to his soul. The young boy had an incredible mind and the energy of twenty horses, and more than once asked questions Lucas just couldn't find an answer for. Besides, it was amazing to watch his friendship with Lily grow in the pace it did, especially because Jamie was able to find explanations for Lily beyond Lucas's reach, like why the sky was blue or why there were so many military parades for them to watch. If there was such thing as souls made for each other, Lily and Jamie were one of them.

The other half of the Scott family lived in a humble house two blocks away from Lucas and Lindsay's place. They had enough money, but there was something special about living with just what they needed, and Haley knew from her father's example that it was always good to keep an amount of money hidden somewhere for tough times. Haley didn't make much money out of her work as a tutor, but two nights a week she played piano in a bar nearby and that was worth a few Reichsmarks. Nathan had lost his job as an attorney, but had become a very good wall painter, and despite painting a few walls for free for those who couldn't pay, he gained enough to support his family, and they lived their own happily ever after like that, one day at a time.

Lucas knocked slowly in the door, Jamie and Lily by his side – it was quite difficult to tear them apart – and it wasn't much after that Nathan appeared, a tired smile on his face, and Jamie was quick to jump on his arms and hug his neck. He had that smell only a child could notice, that scent of home, of daddy, of safety that wasn't seen anywhere else and Jamie needed that to live.

Both men and the children walked in the small house, which smelled like warm food and human heat, and soon Haley walked out of the kitchen to greet Lucas with a tight hug and a complain about his lack of visits.

And just like that, she had the power to take away his worries about the choices he had to do, and the world he unwillingly had to save.


	4. Road to Redemption

This chapter is dedicated to JennaLynne. Though she doesn't read Colorblind, I was only able to finish this chapter today because of the inspiration her Carlisle/Esme story gave to me. So, thank you, Jenna, you're brilliant. And talking about inspiration, I strongly recommend you guys to watch Saints or Soldiers. It's one of the best WWII movies I've seen (and I've seen a lot), it got me tearing up to no end.

Also, I wanted to thank you all for reading this, you guys really make my life happier (especially you, Nix, you're the best beta reader I could ever want). And as such, you have all right to give your opinion about this fic. So if you don't like something in particular or have an idea of what could happen, please, by all means, tell me. I really want this to go right (and also I have no idea to where take the story from here lol). Now…

**Looney4MyTunes3:** You do know how much I love you, don't you? You always manage to get a huge smile out of my face every time you leave a review. Anyway, I went to watch Twilight a few days ago and watched the trailer of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. It looks absolutely terrific and I just need to watch it. Can't wait for it to release over here.

**Lvrfashion****: **Thank _you_ for the kind words. I also can't wait to write what'll happen throughout those days. I hope you keep on enjoying the story!

**Tweetiebird86****:** You can rant, really lol I'm truly glad you sorted it out and honored by your words. Hopefully I won't let you down!

**GirlinTheCafe****: **Wow, I really want to meet your grandma now. I have a granddad who fought in the war, but he's too traumatized by it =( besides he lives far away from me. But anyway, please, let's have those conversations! Internet knows no boundaries lol and I seriously intend to let Lily interrupt some more =D

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**CHAPTER III**

**Road to Redemption  
**

It was hardly the trip of a lifetime, but surely, it was worth a lifetime in the end.

Peyton hugged her knees tightly as the train left the station in Munich, praying for God - or whoever was up there - to look after her, if she deserved such thing as a life; and if she didn't, she prayed for the Nazi to find her soon, and end it all with a simple bullet in the middle of her forehead. That was probably a good way to go, and sometimes she secretly wished for that. Clean, fast, no pain, no time to watch her whole life pass in front of her eyes. She wouldn't have many good memories to hold on to anyway.

Or would she?

She was still fighting against the Nazi idea of the Jew people, and it was a hard battle to fight. In those days when the sunlight shone through the rainy clouds, she smiled and dreamt of a better world, a place where she could live happily with her father, where there were no men in uniform, or soldiers in the streets, there was no Hitler and the war had never lingered its wings in the face of the proud Germany. However, those days didn't last too long, and then she remembered who she truly was. A Jew, hiding in basements and running scared of every shadow, afraid to breathe too deep, because someone could hear it and give her away.

The train speeded, and she let go of her legs, breathing deep, though as silently as she could, trying to feel the calming weight of the fake identity papers Brooke had handled her just before she left. They were perfectly normal to anyone that wanted to check, but Peyton knew better, she knew they weren't real and the guilty look in her eyes would've been enough to any soldier that came across her way.

And then it happened.

She was so frightened by his sight, that when Peyton realized, the soldier was sat by her seat, looking straight ahead, his SS uniform impeccable. She was still trembling when he turned his head towards her and – amazingly – smiled. Only then she noticed how different he was from the other soldiers. He was a tiny, skinny boy and should be no older than 18. His dark hair was all scattered on the top of his head and his smile was true, as much as his bright eyes.

"**Guten Morgen" **now he had spoken, she could feel his voice was also as sweet as him entirely, and held an easiness she hardly saw in any SS member. Still, he was the enemy, and she wasn't about to open up so easily. It was most likely a trap.

"**Hallo"**she replied dryly, and turned her head away from him, suddenly finding something very interesting to look at through the window half covered in snow.

"**How are you?"** the stranger didn't seem to step back an inch, and when Peyton looked back at him the smile was still there, untouchable.

"**Cold"** she replied instinctively, and then bit her tongue mentally. She shouldn't tell things like those to people like him, or else they'd know she was weak, and she had to be just as strong as she could pretend to be. However, he smiled further, not scanning her eyes after a signal of a lie or anything of the sorts, and quickly took his big gray coat off, handling it to her.

"**Take the coat"** he kept on smiling, and Peyton thought he'd soon get a cramp. **"My uniform is warm enough."**

"**I don't need it."**

"**Seriously, take it. You can get a cold."**

Apparently unwillingly, she took the coat and threw it on her back, closing the sleeves around her chest to keep it warm. Then, in an act of tremendous courage – looking through her eyes – she smiled at him, who found a way to make his own smile bigger. It was strange, but she was getting calmer by the second, as if he had something different from any other person, as if he had the ability to proof with a look that his heart was really good, despite the death mask he was wearing as a uniform. Taking his black hat off, he lowered his head in a salute towards Peyton.

"**My name is McFadden. Marvin McFadden"** he approached and she felt a shiver running down her spine instinctively. **"People call me Mouth."**

"**And why is that?"** she took a risk.

"**Who knows."** He replied with another smile, and she got her answer. **"But I got used already."**

"**I'm Peyton."** She found important that he didn't know her surname, for some reason, as if that could protect her against any act of evilness he could felt compelled to do. **"Just Peyton."**

"**Nice to meet you, Just Peyton."** he continued as if they were childhood friends. **"Are you enjoying the trip?"**

"**It's not bad. I've been in worst places."**

"**I don't doubt it."** He lowered his head once more, and spoke so slow and low that for a second Peyton thought she had got it wrong. **"I know who you are."**

It was like a thousand rock trucks had landed inside her stomach. Her hands were sweaty and all of a sudden she felt dizzy, like throwing up any second, everything on her sight suddenly blurred. She tried to breathe, but the air seemed hotter and heavier than it used to be, and it just wouldn't get inside her lungs. Her eyes ran from one person to another and to everyone that were near them, but they didn't seem to be listening to anything. Also, no soldier appeared out of nowhere to kill her, nor it seemed they ever would.

"**I don't know what you're talking about."** She tried, in a last instance, but he knew much better.

"**It's ok, I'm not a decoy. I'm here to help you."**

"**I don't even know you!"**

"**But I know you. Or, well, I know each one of you, the stories are almost all the same. Please, let me explain."**

And she did. Marvin – Mouth – had come from a poor family in Munich. His father was a soldier who had killed himself due the First World War traumas, and his mother – Julia – used to sell homemade bread in the streets to hold the house and her only child. Marvin grew up watching his mother work from sunset to dawn to bring money home, and he swore, as a kid, that he'd do whatever it took to give her a better life. That was when they met Henryk Polanski. He was a widower watchmaker who lived across the street, and he had fallen madly in love with Marvin's mother. They could not get married, but Henryk helped them through tough times, mostly with the money he got from his small store.

One day, when Marvin was playing in a football field three blocks away from his house, the SS appeared. Henryk was a Jew and, in an attempt to save him, Julia tried in vain to talk with the captain of the patrol. There was no mercy. They killed Julia, Henryk and set both houses on fire. Marvin was fourteen when it happened. After that, he became sort of a homeless, wandering around, sometimes working, sometimes stealing; but he swore revenge against the SS troops, all of them. To get that, he volunteered, as soon as they opened up for new members, and he became one of them, to ruin them from the inside. Since then he had been helping those who tried to run away from Munich through the train station. He always knew when someone was running, because they had the same eyes he used to have before. It was impossible to be mistaken with anything else.

Peyton lowered her head when he finished his story, her eyes tearing up slightly. She had always thought of her as the victim of everything, without stopping to think about others who had lived through equal or even worst problems than she ever had.

"**I'm sorry"** she whispered, not really finding anything else to say.

"**It's ok, I'm fine now."**

"**Don't you think you're risking too much? Helping… Us."** She thought a little before say the word.

"**There aren't you or us, Peyton. There are just humans, I don't really see much difference in there."**

"**I can't believe you exist."**

They exchanged a smile and Peyton prayed to a God she was starting to believe again for Mouth. For him to get his revenge and, most of all, to get peace. If there was such thing as angels, she had just met one.

"**Well, here I am. And as long as I'm here, there will hardly be another soldier to check on your documents. Why don't you enjoy the trip and tell me your story?"**

For a moment she thought of letting that go. It wasn't like she enjoyed remembering everything that happened, nor did she like the perspective of her life afterwards, despite being sure about Lucas's intentions. Still, she talked, and for those few minutes she shared her life with him, Peyton felt – for the first time in months – her heart slowing down. In the end, he also lowered his head and sighed deeply, too regretful to look up, to ashamed of his own country.

"**I'm so sorry, Peyton. I really am."**

"**It's ok."** She smiled, that broken smile of hers that was starting to become a copyrighted brand. And the next few words hided a truth none of them was quite ready to admit. **"You can't save everyone, Mouth."**

"**Do you trust this Lucas?"** he ran away from her statement as fast as he could.

"**I have to." **She shrugged. **"But truth be told, it can't get any worse."**

"**You'll find your peace."** He nodded, a glimpse of oldness in his eyes he shouldn't have already. **"We all will. Someday."**

* * *

Lucas leaned on the window to look at the streets for the seventh time in less than two hours. It was snowing that night, amazingly, and Lily was playing in the front yard with Jamie and a few other kids from the neighborhood. Snow was something that had always fascinated Lucas to no end. Like every flake was different from the other, and the magic it had, and the fact he could always stay playing on it for hours and hours and he'd never get a cold. Lily, apparently, had taken that talent from him.

"**Will we talk about this?"** Lindsey's voice echoed behind his back and Lucas jumped slightly in fear. **"Or do you want me to play the blind wife that doesn't know anything about her husband's illegal affairs?"**

"**I don't know what you're talking about."**

"**I'm talking about you helping all those Jews around the country. Do you really think I don't know all about it, Lucas? Now what, will the Geheime Staatspolizei visit us tonight?"**

"**Only if your father sends them."**

It was always like that when the subject was politic. Lucas was as stubborn and idealistic as Lindsey was reserved and careful. Of course, she wouldn't give her husband away, but she couldn't understand his endless efforts to save something that wasn't supposed to be saved. Lindsey wasn't bad; she was just like any other German and truly believed in Hitler's speeches and theories. She wanted a better life for her country, and not just because of her father, but because she believed in the greatness of Germany. Getting rid of those who was on the way was just part of the process.

"**I'm sorry."** Lucas muttered, finally giving in. He walked slowly towards the couch and waved for her to do the same.

"**What's going on, Lucas?"** she asked with a bad hidden hint of hurt pride in her voice.

"**Brooke found me."** She nodded for him to go on his explanation, but he seemed to be struggling with words. **"My ex-girlfriend. She needed my help, I said yes."**

"**Ok… What will you have to do?"**

"**I already did. There's a Jew… A girl. And she'll hide here."**

Lindsey's face had gone pale and it seemed like her blood had vanished to never come back. In a blink of an eye she was up, pointing an accusatory finger at Lucas's nose, and before he could take note, her pale face had gone red, her eyes shining in what could be easily called fury.

"**WHAT?! What in God's name do you think you're doing?!"**

"**Her name is Peyton. Peyton Sawyer."** He continued as if he was never interrupt, hoping that a name and a history behind a simple stereotype could melt Lindsey's heart. **"Her father was sent to a labor camp and she doesn't have anywhere else to go."**

"**And now that's MY problem?!"** her sharply scream made Lucas blink twice. **"What if the police find out?"**

"**They won't."**

"**But what if they do? What will happen to me, huh? What will happen to Lily?"** noticing the different shine in his eyes, Lindsey continued in what affected him more. **"Have you thought about her? Who'll take care of her if you're gone?!"**

"**I just thought…"**

"**No, you didn't. If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."**

"**Now, wait a second!" **he stood up, his eyes suddenly certain of his actions.** "I know what I'm doing, and I refuse to let people die if I can do something about it. She'll hide here, and that's it. You don't need to help; you don't even need to look at her. She'll stay in the basement, as long as she needs. Then I'll find somewhere else for her to stay. Do you understand?"**

"**Yes."**

Truth was she never would.

* * *

She was sleeping when the first soldier appeared. Half asleep, half awake. She was used to sleep like that, one eye on a dream, one eye on the real world. Sometimes, when life let her, she pretended the open eye was also living a dream – a nightmare – and she would soon wake up and find herself in her father's calming arms, but that certainly wasn't one of those times. Then the second soldier came and she opened her eyes completely. Peyton nudged Marvin slightly, but he was already awake, eyes glued on the two figures a few foots away.

"**Don't move" **he whispered under his breath. Peyton didn't answer, but there wouldn't need an order for her to stay as quiet as she could get.

The soldiers turned around and stared right at her.

Her blood froze. Her legs melted.

"**Guten Tag"** the taller soldier said; his voice cheeky, as they approached.

"**Guten Tag"** Marvin answered, and he was so calm that Peyton understood just why he was still alive.

"**Do you have smoke?"** this time the shorter soldier asked, shrugging. **"We ran out of cigarettes."**

"**Oh, of course."** Marvin got a smoke box out of his pocket and smiled, handling it to the shorter soldier. Only then Peyton noticed the _Totenkopf_ on the men's hats.

Skull and crossbones.

SS.

"**You can keep it."** Marvin was still smiling. **"I can get another one when we get in Stuttgart."**

"**And the lady is traveling to so far away without a coat?"**

Peyton's throat went as dry as it could get, but Marvin seemed absurdly comfortable with the whole situation.

"**She's my cousin. She came home for Christmas, but her mom fell sick and she had to come back in a hurry. I was supposed to leave her at the station, but a disgusting Jew stole her coat back there. I shot the thing down, but I wouldn't let her wear something that had gotten in touch with **_**that.**_**"** He made a face and the soldiers seemed to buy his lie. In fact, he lied so well that even Peyton was starting to believe. **"Since I was off duty during the end of the year, I decided to take her home and visit my aunt."**

"**Urgh, I'm sorry."** The taller soldier said, truthful. **"That's why I say, a good Jew is a dead Jew."**

"**Ya."** The other one replied. **"We have to go, we were just checking on the train, but with you here there will hardly be a Jew around. Thanks for the smoke."**

"**Anytime. Heil Hitler."**

The three men grinned.

"**Heil Hitler."**

Peyton was so joyful she felt like she could sing the Deutschlandlied.


	5. StarCrossed Lovers

Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I intend to keep on writing Colorblind. And yes, I'm apologizing desperately to you, reader, who I gave up on by leaving my story behind. Truth is I was being eaten up by a monster called university, and when that monster gave me a break, I met a ghost called lack of muse. Both of them are kinda gone now, for a short period, but still, I'm so sorry I took this long to update. Also, I'd like to ask you, reader, to share your thoughts about this story. I'm only human and I love to hear what you think, and what you think that should happen from now on.

This chapter is small because I couldn't see another way for it to be. I apologize for that, too, and for my habit of apologizing as well XD Now, the reviews. Better late then never.

Looney4MyTunes3: You already know I love you, so I'll just skip this part. I really try hard to be accurate, as much as I can, because deep in my mind I think it's unfair if I don't make everything I can to make justice to those who lived through that time period. I'm also very, very glad that you liked it, and I'll try to make sure you don't get disappointed in the following chapters.

GirlinTheCafe: I'm glad you liked Mouth's role in all of this, I wasn't sure the idea would end up as good as I thought. I hope you're able to enjoy the shortness of this chapter XD

Tweetiebird86: Thank you! Seriously. It's hard to portray the soldiers rightfully, not too evil, but not too kind, after all they were only humans, despite everything. And I'm really glad I managed to show a bit of Peyton's personality development through the last chapter. I hope you keep on enjoying the story.

* * *

**CHAPTER**** IV**

**Star-Crossed Lovers**

The first firework had lightened up the sky when they first laid eyes on each other.

_**A PS about love**_

_They didn't fall in love at first sight, like all epic love stories, though I wished they had. As I'd known and understand later, to her Lucas was just someone risking his life to save hers; to him, Peyton was just another life he would be glad to save. But I like to think the stars shone differently that night because they knew everything that would happen from that moment on. And there were fireworks. Why would they celebrate the oncoming New Year when two people destined to be together had just met?_

Marvin had left her at the station and to Peyton's desperation; he had called two SS fellows to drive her until Lucas's street, using the same old story about cousins and sick aunts he had used before. It seemed to work, but Peyton didn't breathe until they left her on the Oase Street. They didn't talk much, out of respect for her being related to another SS, and she was eternally grateful to that. Silently, as she walked through the streets filled with people, she promised herself that she'd never forget Marvin and his endless smile.

Lucas stood in front of her like an oasis on an extremely hot day; like he was an angel who could simply vanish if she closed her eyes for more than a second. They walked slowly towards each other and stood there, right under the fireworks.

**"Waiting for a year to come?"** he asked smoothly. Peyton recognized the password Brooke had told her about.

**"Waiting for a year to change"**

**"That's what we all wait for."**

Their smiles shone brighter than the fireworks.

**"I'm Lucas."**

**"I'm Peyton."**

**"Nice to meet you, Peyton. Would you come with me, please? We have to be quick and use the New Year's Eve to avoid suspicion"**

It was easy to be around him, it was the first thing that Peyton noticed. His eyes were made of trust and his touch as he escorted her through the crowd was so sweet it seemed unlikely that he'd ever be capable of hurting someone. He was good, she – and anyone else – could see that, and in Peyton's world that was about enough. Her heart slowed down a few beats the closer they got to his house, and when they finally got there, she felt a peace she thought she had lost long ago.

**"This is where I live. You may as well call it your home for the next months."**

When they entered, Lindsay was no longer there – she was celebrating the New Year at her father's – and Lily was asleep in her bedroom. The house was hidden by the dark, lost among the thousand shadows cast by the only lonely light on in the small hallway. Lucas walked Peyton to the basement, where a few blankets were already posed as a bed, all gently put together by a very discreet Haley, as well as a bowl of hot soup and a piece of bread, beside a glass of water. She must be starving, Lucas thought when he was arranging the place, and it was a nice way to say welcome. He was aware that it wasn't her real home, and he knew it would be hard to pretend it was, but it didn't mean he couldn't try to make it all a bit less difficult than it already was. He wasn't just helping her out; he was trying his best to make life a little less ugly in the process.

**"Is it okay?"** he asked behind her shoulder from afar, as she watched in amazement her little cozy hideout.

**"It's the best that I've had in the past months. Thank you."** Peyton turned on her heels and stared right through his bright eyes. **"Why are you doing this, Lucas?"**

**"I believe in people, most of the time, and not in a greater power or anything of the sorts. I'm just doing my part."**

**"You want me to believe you don't think there's someone watching over good people like you?"**

**"Hey, don't push your luck, **_**kind**_**, you just arrived."** He smirked, a crooked smile that shone through the half-light of the basement. Unwillingly, that smile graved itself on her memory and it would be her rock, to hold every time things got bad in the following years. Peyton didn't know that by then, but that smile would be the first thing that crossed her mind all the times she heard the heavy boots marching on the streets, and when her heart beat faster, she always wanted that smile to be the last thought to ever cross her mind. Of course, that night she only saw it as a smile like the others so rare to see. **"I'll see you in the morning, and you'll get to know the rest of the family. If you need anything, tell me by then."**

**"Happy New Year, Lucas."**

**"And for you, Peyton. Good night."**

He was already on the stairs when her thick voice reached his ears.

**"Thank you. I'll never forget what you're doing for me."**

**"You're welcome."** He hesitated for a tiny little second, but remained in silence, as he shook his head and walked upstairs.

Peyton crawled up into her corner, grabbing her special made meal and having a bite. It was delicious, considering her last meals, and she decided it wasn't a bad start. Things could actually get a bit better – as much as they could get – under those new circumstances. Lucas was a good person, and for the first time in years she felt secure. It was impossible to feel completely safe those days, but just for a change, she felt unreachable inside that small cold basement, as long as Lucas was up there, watching over.

Who said there wasn't someone up there watching over her?


	6. Shadow of a Ghost

It took a long while for me to come back into writing business. But after watching The Pianist again, the Colorblind mood just kicked in and I was able to pull out one more chapter. Thanks to all of you who didn't give up on this, even after I did that myself. And I'm sorry for the lower quality of the writing, but apparently it will take a while for me to get in shape again.

[hr]

**CHAPTER V**

**Shadow of a Ghost**

** 1st January, 1939**

_**Herr**_** Lucas Scott's basement**

From where she was lying, she could see no sunlight. The entire basement was covered in shadows, including her. Maybe, because of that, she had woken up feeling so safe that morning. The shadows made her invisible, and the soft words spoken by Lucas the night before still lingered in the air. Peyton stood up and folded carefully the sheets and old clothes she had slept on, putting them aside to hide the handmade bed underneath the cardboards selected especially for that function. When it was all done, she turned on her heels to sit in the opposite corner to wait for Lucas to show up with further instructions and introductions, but the person standing still on the staircase was surely a lot shorter than him, though her blonde hair shone in a tone as gold as Lucas's. At first, Peyton jumped out of her skin, frightened as she always was, but then the little girl smiled and tilted the shiny crown in her head.

"**Did the evil witch trap you in here, too?"**

Peyton couldn't help but smile.

"**I think so. Are you hiding from her?"**

"**Yes" **the little girl whispered as if it was the biggest secret of all. **"But don't tell anyone!"**

"**I'm very good at keeping secrets. What's your name?"**

"**My name is Lily, I live here. What's yours?"**

"**Her name is Peyton" **Lucas's voice echoed just behind Lily and she smirked at Peyton like they were two kids who were somewhere they weren't supposed to be and had just been caught. **"I was going to introduce you two, but it seems you've already met."** His soft hand fell upon Lily's shoulders and the two of them finished the staircase, standing right in front of Peyton. **"This is my sister. Lily, this woman is a friend of Brooke, do you remember her?"**

She nodded; her childish smile still intact.

"**Now," **he kneeled in front of her and Peyton noticed, even in the shadows, just how much he adored his sister by the way his eyes were shining. **"I need you to do me a favor, okay? You must not, under any circumstances, tell anyone there's someone in here. Do you understand that, Lily?"**

She nodded again, this time a serious look upon her face. Peyton knew, then and there, that Lily was perfectly aware of the seriousness of that situation and, even knowing she was still too young, she also knew her secret was safe with the little girl.

"**I promise I won't tell anyone, Luke. It's a princess promise"**

"**Good."** He hugged tight and smiled broadly. **"Now, will you excuse us? I need to talk to Peyton alone."**

"**Okay"** she ran towards the staircase, but froze in the middle of the way, glancing carefully at Lucas and Peyton. **"Huh… Can you play with me later, **_**Frau **_**Peyton? I can bring my dolls down here so we can tell stories and play house."**

Lucas tried to apologize the nuisance with a conciliating smile, but Peyton shook her head before he could do it.

"**Absolutely. I'd love to, **_**mein lieber Schatz**_**"**

"**Thank you for being this sweet with her"** Lucas tilted his head as he spoke, following Lily's shadow and sound as she disappeared into the hallway. **"And don't worry, your secret is safe with her"**

"**I know. Children are, at many times, more trustworthy than adults."**

"**I know exactly what you mean"** he glanced at the organized sheets. **"Did you sleep well?"**

"**Yes. Thank you, again, for what you're doing for me."**

"**You don't need to thank me. And I'm sorry for all the darkness. Even though the neighborhood is somewhat safe, we can't take any unnecessary risks, for the police may come by any second."**

"**I understand."**

"**Anyhow, I already checked around, you're safe to come up and have breakfast with us."**

"**Thank you, **_**Herr**_** Lucas, but I don't want to be-…"**

"**Please. You're a friend of Brooke's; you're my friend. Call me Lucas. And it won't be a problem, that way you can meet my wife, Lindsey.**

In the end, the perspective to leave behind – even for one morning – the lack of food and welcome a table full of bread, ham, sausage and juices won her will. Besides, she would indeed be spending a lot of time with that family, and she could just as well get used to it. Not that breakfast in the kitchen would become usual, but one time wouldn't hurt. Other than that, she was looking forward to talking to Lily again. The little one's energy would surely be the light at the end of the tunnel in the oncoming months, and that was certain a friendship she was willing to start.


End file.
